Outlaws

A suit of armor, as if made of *** , covered Lorenzo's body. Yet rather than armor, it looked like a mass of intertwined snakes crawling over him, coiling together to form this strange shell. Blazing white flames poured from the gaps, as if beneath the armor there was no flesh and blood, but a sacred spirit forged entirely from fire.

"Sabo, killing a Fiend takes more than destroying its heart. You have to destroy its brain, too."

A deep voice rang in his ears. The burning blade swept down with ease, and the arm holding him captive was severed.

The wound left by the blade was no clean cut. It was blackened, charred flesh. The instant the blow landed, the extreme heat destroyed every cell, reducing them to drifting ash.

Then the light of the heavens pierced all the darkness.

Lorenzo stood atop the wooden stake, wreathed in flames. The heat scorched everything around him, and his wounds began to heal. It was slow, but for now, Lorenzo wouldn't die.

That was the strength of Fiends. Even with their brains destroyed, their bodies could still act on instinct. And even with their hearts destroyed, they could keep fighting for a while, driven by their will. Those with especially pure Secret Blood, like Lorenzo, could even force their bodies to heal. The price was steep, but compared to life itself, it was nothing.

"Is this the glimmer of hope inside the box?"

Watching the tranquil light, Sabo's eyes brimmed with tears.

"In the end, you really are different from me. The Secret Blood gave me this twisted body, but you can be so holy..."

In the end, even the accursed Secret Blood rejected Sabo. He and Lorenzo had the same blood, yet their fates were utterly different. His grotesque body slowly curled in on itself, his head drooping like a disappointed child's.

"Just a false holiness."

The snakes climbed up Lorenzo's neck, sucking at his blood. In return, their sturdy scales became his armor.

The burning sword drooped. Lorenzo crouched, signaling the start of a strike.

Dawn was coming to illuminate everything, leaving nowhere for the darkness to hide. But just as the final revelry came before death, the darkest hour came before dawn: a night of profound darkness, and one last counterattack from the shadows.

The rock ceiling above had dried out, every drop of water evaporated. The blaze at the highest level had reached the bottom floor under the Purification Agency's efforts. Fiend or human, no one could survive that deadly heat. Their bodies would turn to charcoal inch by inch, crumble into weightless ash, and finally lie at rest beneath the earth.

The whole world was on the verge of collapse. The fragile Underground Palace caved in level by level, like an old man whose organs were failing one after another. It was dying. Soon, the stone blocks above would crush everything on this lowest floor. The two of them had little time left. Countless stones and clouds of dust rained down, sending ripples across the water. Only one of them would make it out alive.

A mottled rapier pierced through the layers of dust. Scarlet eyes glared at Lorenzo with envy. Sabo envied everyone in the world. The sharp sword met the flaming blade. The dark gray metal glowed red from the heat, and even the blood that splashed onto it evaporated in an instant.

"No one can choose where they come from, but they can choose their future!"

Sabo shrieked. His body had become a deformed monster, but he still believed he could survive. He would survive. It was his only wish.

Lorenzo clashed blades with him. At this point, swordsmanship no longer mattered. It was merely a means of killing, not a weapon for slaying Fiends.

There was no technique to their fight. Like primeval monsters, they tore into each other with raw ferocity. The rapier struck the sturdy snake scales, showering sparks and leaving deep gashes. The burning blade scorched Sabo's sinful body, but new flesh quickly grew to replace what had died.

Like the Ouroboros devouring its own tail, destruction gave way to rebirth, until one of them fell.

"There's no chance left, Sabo. Once you've made certain choices, there's no changing them."

Lorenzo's voice was indifferent.

Everything that happened tonight had begun with the Sacred Coffin, while the changes in the Underground Palace stemmed from the doctor connected to it. Lorenzo had dealt with many cases like this before. He knew the doctor had left behind Secret Blood, and its widespread release had turned those people into Fiends. Sabo was the only one among them who had kept his reason.

No—perhaps he had done all this for the Secret Blood. His deformed body could no longer sustain him. Only the Secret Blood could give him a chance.

The flaming sword struck again and again, like a blacksmith's hammer pounding steel and fire.

Lorenzo forced Sabo back, then immediately pressed forward. The water boiled from the heat, filling the air with mist, where savage shadows and light reflected.

Another crash rang out. The collapse was closing in, and this time Lorenzo put all his strength into his swing. Amid the crash, the glowing red rapier snapped.

It was the sword that had accompanied Sabo for years, and today it finally broke. He grabbed the broken tip. New flesh coiled around it, and he thrust it at Lorenzo. The blade slid through a narrow gap in the armor, sinking deep into his flesh.

Sabo opened his mouth and clamped his sharp teeth onto Lorenzo. He had no sword left, but he still had his sharp teeth and powerful arms. He would bite through Lorenzo's throat, then drown him.

He hadn't lost. He could still fight.

At last, the rock ceiling could no longer bear the weight and began to collapse. Countless stones crashed down, destroying the underground river. The sudden shift interrupted their battle. The current swept them into protruding rocks on the riverbed, then dragged them under.

In the dark water, the scorching flames still burned. Like a drowning man's final frenzy, their bodies twisted together. After a brief pause, they resumed fighting in the rushing water. This was no longer a battle between humans. It was more like a struggle between beasts.

Heavy stones crushed them. Dark red blood poured from the gaps in the armor and their flesh, drifting with the current as the tremendous drop battered them against the surrounding rock walls.

Sabo tore at Lorenzo with his sharp claws and fangs. The black iron armor fell away piece by piece like scales, releasing scorching flames. The burning Cane Sword repeatedly tore through Sabo's abdomen, killing him again and again, only for him to revive.

A choked roar escaped him as he clamped both hands around Lorenzo's head. Even as the flames spilling from Lorenzo's body burned his palms, he refused to let go. He held on like an iron vise, pinning Lorenzo below him and smashing him against the protruding riverbed.

Lorenzo's attack suddenly stalled, as if something had caught him and stopped him from fully "transforming." The flames began to die out. But at the last moment, Lorenzo broke free of Sabo's hold underwater. Ignoring his wounds, he wrapped his burning hands tightly around Sabo's head. The heat evaporated everything.

Faint glimmers flickered in the murky, turbulent blue world, but the immense current swept them all away.

At last, their tangled fight seemed to exhaust them both. Drained of blood and battered by their wounds, the freezing water and their need for air, they weakly let go of each other and were swept to the edge of the sewer outlet.

There was no grand finale, only two men washed ashore like dead dogs.

Maybe seconds passed, maybe minutes. At last, one of the bodies stirred. A twisted hand seized the bank, and Sabo struggled ashore. He gasped for breath as the flesh of his abdomen writhed and twisted. Cold air filled his lungs, and tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. It hurt, but he was alive. He was alive.

He had nothing left. Once again, he was an outlaw. With his only arm, he clawed at the ground, dragging himself forward and leaving a broad trail of blood behind him.

His vision was a blur. Sabo could only judge his direction by the breeze against his skin. Lorenzo's final blow in the river had nearly melted his head. Though it hadn't quite finished the job, his delicate eyeballs had been destroyed. He needed time to recover.

Sabo was only a step away from freedom. He had built this escape route himself and knew exactly what to do next. Beyond the narrow sewer lay the Thames River, where small boats usually passed by and went ashore wherever they needed. Once Sabo reached the Thames, he would be free. No one could stop him anymore.

Lorenzo climbed ashore behind him, retching up blood mixed with river water. His face was deathly pale, and barely a scrap of his black armor remained. He had lost the Cane Sword in the struggle, but he still gripped the Winchester tightly.

"Sabo, there's nowhere left to run."

Lorenzo leaned against the wall, taunting the man who was crawling forward with all his strength.

He struck the Shotgun hard. It was soaked through and clogged with gravel; it wouldn't fire. Lorenzo let out a long sigh and, clutching his wound, tried to stand.

Sabo kept crawling forward, not caring what Lorenzo said. He only thought of moving ahead. Lorenzo lunged at him and pinned him down, trying to ignite him with the little blood he had left. But a sharp bone blade rose from beneath Sabo's flesh and stabbed Lorenzo again.

They grappled on the ground. Sabo's bone blade struck one last time, piercing Lorenzo's thigh and pinning him to the floor.

Sabo had no desire to linger in the fight. He kept moving forward. Watching that stubborn figure, Lorenzo suddenly felt an aching pity. Sabo was so relentless. Death was already knocking at his door, yet he still hoped to live. Perhaps in that moment, Lorenzo understood him.

All Sabo had was his life, and life was the one thing that would never betray him. That was enough. It was already enough.

The figure kept moving forward. Scorching fire burned through him, and only then did Lorenzo notice the steel jutting from his flesh. It was his Cane Sword. Amid the chaotic collisions in the underground river, Lorenzo had somehow driven the blade into Sabo's abdomen, where it pierced his heart.

Sabo was dying. The flames had already burned away his innards.

At last, he stopped. He had given everything he had, yet he still couldn't crawl out of the dark passage.

"Am I going to die?"

Lorenzo approached slowly. Sabo leaned on the bone blade that had run him through, looking utterly wretched.

Lorenzo nodded. His black clothes were in tatters, and his expression held both peace and sorrow, like a friend attending a funeral.

"Mr. Holmes, life is a gamble. You take the few chips you have and try to win everything life has to offer. I think I did it, but I came up just a little short. Just a little..."

Red tears trickled down his loathsome face as he spoke. He had finally reached Inverwig, and then Old Dunling. He had gained wealth and power, and even escaped the constraints of his deformed body. He had gained everything, only to die now.

"Will you pray for me?"

He asked weakly, addressing the former priest. But a long time passed before Lorenzo finally answered.

"There's no point, Sabo. You don't believe in God. What good would praying do?"

Lorenzo walked past Sabo toward the place bathed in light without looking back.

"When you die, you're dead. There's no heaven or hell, just eternal peace."

Sabo stared blankly for a long while, then seemed to accept it.

"Is that so... What a shame..."

The blazing white flames completely engulfed the Fiend's body, burning through its innards and then its brain. Its blackened bones wavered in the ash before falling into the rushing water and sinking beneath the Thames.

The charred head drifted underwater past Lorenzo. He only caught a brief glimpse, but it was hard to imagine such a peaceful expression on that hideous face.

At last, the outlaw came to a stop, and enjoyed the peace that had reached him long ago.